Deadly Deception
by anonmachine
Summary: Artemis Fowl is back! With his old self reverted, Artemis Fowl is planning the kidnap of a fairy. Trouble brews thickly in the Lower Elements and Root is on the run from his own officers...
1. Memory

Disclaimer: I don't own the boy genius or any of his sidekicks!  
  
Author's Note: This is *my* version of Artemis Fowl fifth book. Some of the characters I might make up.  
  
*~*~*~*~*  
  
Chapter One: Memory  
  
Aurum Est Potestas. Gold is Power...  
  
Artemis gritted his teeth in frustration. He was going around in never ending circles. Who would have planted the mirrored lenses in their eyes? And why not in Mr. and Mrs. Fowl's eyes too? What were the lenses for? How did they, however *they* are, put them in? *When* did they put them in?   
  
Who?  
  
Why?  
  
How?  
  
When?  
  
The Mafiya? KGB? The CIA? Or maybe it was the-  
  
His thoughts were disrupted suddenly by the shrill ringing of his cell phone.  
  
'Yes?'  
  
'Artemis, it is me, Butler.'  
  
'Of course it is you, who else would have my number? This is a secured line.' Artemis was irritable.  
  
'Yes, sir... Artemis...about the lenses...' He sounded hesitant.   
  
Finally! Though Artemis was jubilant, he fought to remain calm. Now he would know who ordered it and he would hunt them down and make them pay...dearly...  
  
'Who was it then?'  
  
'...Artemis...it was me...'  
  
Artemis was incredulous. 'You?!'  
  
'Yes, apparently I visited him the day before to order these lenses. He said he charged it to your account...'  
  
'That is impossible! You were with me yesterday!' Artemis did a double take. 'He charged it to my account?'  
  
'Apparently so...'  
  
'I will check this out.'  
  
'I have reviewed the security tapes...'  
  
'And?'  
  
'It certainly looks like me...'  
  
'Transfer it over through the PowerBook I lent you and send it to me'  
  
'I have anticipated this and have transferred the images. I'm sending it over as we speak.'  
  
'Good man, Butler. I'll call you back.' He ended the call.   
  
He dialed his bank number.   
  
'Good afternoon, Mr. Fremont, I'd like to check my bank account please...yes...I will wait...'  
  
Artemis drummed his fingers impatiently.  
  
'Yes? Really? When was this? Ahhh.... yes yes... no...of course not...I understand perfectly...Yes...Thank you...'  
  
The call ended.   
  
His bank account was deducted of a seven digit number.  
  
Resisting the urge to growl, Artemis encased this slim mouse with his long fingers and manipulated it to hover about the internet connection icon. His tapered fingers danced across the keyboard as he typed in the 8 digit password and within seconds, he was online. He clicked opened his email inbox and sure enough, nestled among the junk mails was Butler's email. He double clicked on it and waited for the page to load. When that was done, he downloaded the file which was attached. His heartbeat increased as he waited for the file transfer to complete.  
  
He opened the file.  
  
'Hmm... very bad quality... If what Mr. Fremont says is true, he should be able to purchase himself a new security camera...'   
  
He frowned.  
  
Though the images were fuzzy and in terrible black and white hues, it was unmistakable. I was Butler...at least, it certainly *looked* like him... the way he walked, moved and talked...Who was this imposter?  
  
There was no doubt in the adolescent's mind that this was not Butler. Butler would not do this...  
  
Would he?  
  
*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N: Right so what do you think? Should I continue? 


	2. The Booke

Disclaimer: I don't own the boy genius or any of his sidekicks!  
  
Author's Note: This is *my* version of Artemis Fowl fifth book. Some of the characters I might make up.  
  
*~*~*~*~*  
  
Chapter Two: The Booke  
  
Of course not!  
  
Artemis chided himself. The Butlers have served the Fowls for years...all of them prove faithful until the very end...  
  
He picked up his cell phone and dialed.  
  
'Butler... I have received security tape...no...it's too risky...yes, I must admit that is true...one and a half million in all...no, don't kill him...yes...there *is* nothing we can do at the moment...yes...' he trailed off.  
  
Artemis's eyes strayed to the computer screen. There was an email from a certain "Mue Dyngge". He frowned and clicked on it.  
  
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Dear Artemis Fowl the Second,   
  
You will not remember me. We have some urgent business to discuss. Don't contact me, I'll contact you.  
  
Yours,   
  
Mue Dyngge  
  
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Artemis tried tracing the email. Unfortunately for him, it was spiked. Untraceable.  
  
'Artemis?' Butler sounded concerned.  
  
'Yes...Butler, return to the manor immediately...there are some issues we have to discuss...'  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
'Are you sure this time?'  
  
'Yes, Azwanli is a good man.'  
  
Nguyen is a good man Artemis blinked. Where did that thought come from? Who was Nguyen?  
  
'After four false alarms in two continents, this meeting had better yield something.'  
  
Butler said nothing.  
  
Artemis glanced at his watch impatiently. 'He is late...'  
  
'Fashionably so...'  
  
It was sweltering in the Arabian twelve o'clock sun. If not for the gold that was promised for this venture, Artemis would not have come.  
  
He reached over and took a sip of the ice cold lemon tea in front of him.  
  
A street merchant approached, caring a wide variety of colourful and gaudy carpets.  
  
'Would you like to buy some carpets, sirs?'  
  
'When you are quite done parading around in that ridiculous outfit, Mr. Azwanli, please take a seat and we can discuss business.'  
  
'But little sir! I am a carpet seller! A merchant!'  
  
'Hardly...' Artemis nodded at his watch, 'That is a Rolex, I believe...Add to that, your fake Arabian accent is appalling and it drew my suspicion...'  
  
Azwanli dumped his carpets on the café floor unceremoniously and sat on the aforementioned seat.  
  
Artemis leaned forward. 'Do you have it?'  
  
'Of course...you have the money, I presume?'  
  
Artemis nodded. 'Butler?'  
  
His manservant produced a briefcase and laid it on the table.  
  
'All sixteen thousand American dollars.'  
  
'Good.' Azwanli stood up and grabbed the briefcase.  
  
'I hope we are not forgetting your part of the bargain, Mr. Azwanli.'  
  
Azwanli chuckled. 'Here,' he tossed a tiny golden volume at Artemis. Butler caught it before it met Artemis's forehead. 'Enjoy. I've tried decoding it's text half my life...I have not yet succeeded in decoding a single letter...it is written in and old tongue...Happy reading!' laughing, Azwanli hugged the briefcase tightly to his chest and walked away.'  
  
Artemis's followed him with narrowed eyes. 'I believe, Mr. Azwanli, that your lack of intelligence has prevented you from uncovering the secrets of The Booke...' he said at the retreating form.   
  
Artemis stood up abruptly.  
  
'Come, Butler, we will catch the next flight home...'  
  
'The book, sir?' Butler displayed the tiny volume in his massive palm.  
  
'I trust you can keep it safe.'  
  
It wasn't a question.  
  
*~*~*~*~*  
  
A/N : I bet you know who Mue Dyngge is! Review! Constructive criticism welcomed!  
  
Response to reviewers:  
  
Aenea – I finished reading the 2nd and 3rd book in one day! LOL! I really love it!  
  
Melbell – thank you for encouraging me! Hope you enjoyed this chappie!  
  
chrysgurl – here's the 2nd chappie, for you!  
  
isilme – Arty! I wish I was as smart as him! (No, I'm not a luster!) :P 


	3. Gnommish Tanslations

Disclaimer: I don't own the boy genius or any of his sidekicks!  
  
Author's Note: This is *my* version of Artemis Fowl fifth book. Some of the characters I might make up.  
  
*~*~*~*~*  
  
Chapter Three: Gnommish Translations   
  
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
~ Stiletto Knives ~  
  
These babies, cleverly hidden in specially designed straps on your leg/ankles beneath your skirt/pants, are sure to surprise your principal's nemesis. Straps comes in fuchsia, grey and black. $32.49  
  
* Available in any Weapon Cove Stores world wide.  
  
** Excluding shipping fee.  
  
~ 4.4 Caliber Gun ~  
  
Although extremely noisy and messy, the 4.4 is sure to bring your opponents down. (Manual) $242.86  
  
* Available only while stocks last.  
  
** Excluding shipping fee.  
  
~ Chainsaw ~  
  
Not recommended for the fainthearted. VERY messy and bloody. The chainsaw is originally design for chopping downs trees. However, we have modified it and now it is-  
  
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'Butler?'  
  
Butler looked up from his Weapon Cove brochure. 'Sir?'  
  
'We have thirty remaining minutes before we reach Ireland. The booke, if you please. I wish to get a head start in decoding it.'  
  
'Of course.' Butler fished into his breast pocket and pulled out the gold embossed volume.   
  
Artemis took it and returned to his aisle seat.   
  
A stewardess passed by.   
  
Butler stopped her. 'Could you bring me some more peanuts?'  
  
'Certainly sir.'  
  
Butler nodded and returned to his brochure.  
  
'Perhaps I should order the stiletto knives...'  
  
*~*~*~*~*  
  
When he opened the booke, Artemis had a strange and inexplicable feeling of déjà vu. He shivered involuntarily. This felt so familiar... yet...  
  
He mentally shook himself and stared at the Gnommish figures. It was an odd jumble of character, meandering aimlessly in spirals on the thin parchment. Familiar...  
  
Words seemed to leap at him from the yellowed pages.   
  
[Carry me always, carry me well...]  
  
Goosebumps pickled his pale skin.  
  
[I am thy teacher of herb and spell...]  
  
'How can this be?'   
  
[I am thy link to power arcane...]  
  
He found himself muttering the last sentence of the commandments in the verse, 'Forget me, and thy magick shall wane...'  
  
[Holly]  
  
'What does all this mean?'  
  
[Holly]  
  
Artemis felt frustrated. Secrets deeply buried in his mind.   
  
[The People]  
  
He snapped the booke shut.  
  
[Holly...Captain Short]  
  
He closed his eyes briefly...  
  
'Sir? Excuse me, we will be landing in ten minutes, please stow away your laptop and straighten your seat.'  
  
Artemis complied.   
  
*~*~*~*~*  
  
'Julius! By tomorrow we will pull off all observation from that Fowl boy.'  
  
'Has it been six months already? D'arvit. Things are so much more peaceful without that meddlesome Mud Boy.'  
  
Foaly laughed. It sounded like a donkey whinnying. 'Looks like things are getting back to normal, Julius!'  
  
Commander Root gritted his teeth in frustration. 'Don't call me by my first name, donkey boy! Or you'll be pulling the wagon for some Mud Man tomorrow!'  
  
*~*~*~*~*  
  
Response to reviewers  
  
isilme – Fowl is going to capture someone in the next chapter... Won't tell you who!!  
  
Eminem Starlight – you mean Eoin Colfer *bows respectfully* won't write anymore Arty stories?! Noooo! :'(   
  
chrysgurl – helloooo! LOL, caaaaaaaalm down! Hope this chappie quenches your curiousity a teeny weeny bit!  
  
Melbell – sorry if I confused you! But yeah, it's quite obvious, isn't it? :P  
  
shadowweaver – eh eh eh, Mue Dyngge... obvious! And thank you for your support! 


	4. Interrogation Gone Astray

**Author's Note**: Thank you for waiting so long. I took a long break away from Artemis Fowl fandom and indulged myself in other writings.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own anything. Look at Eoin Colfer, he's the man.

**Further Note**: I have changed the original title of this work from _Artemis Fowl: The Fourth Boo_k, to something more decidedly creative – _Deadly Deception_.

Also, the original plot I have planned for this has been changed somewhat and the story extended.

I may be looking to rewriting the first few chapters as it is very sparsely written and I feel doesn't do Artemis justice. My style has since grown darker from the last time I updated this fic. I have delved deep, deep, deep into writings that centre around pain, suffering, more pain and more suffering and sometimes death. (No artificial sugar added)

Enjoy anyway…

* * *

Artemis awoke perspiring. It was the same recurring dream he had for the past few months. But now he understood the underlying meaning embedded in his subconscious.

The revelation and sudden understanding made him smirk vicious in the dark of his room.

* * *

Root panted as he chased the perpetrator down the dark alley.

'Emilien Thorn! Freeze!'

The elf doubled his speed, sprinting around a corner.

The LEP commander took the corner, unclipping the heavy gun at his hips and slipped the safety off.

'Thorn? Stop running and turn yourself in.'

'Commander…' came a leery tone from close behind him. Root straighten in surprised. 'Everybody runs, Commander.'

Root swung around, gun being brought swiftly up to catch the fugitive in the face. But not swift enough. Before he could react, the weapon was knocked from his grip and a tussle for the upper hand followed.

The older elf grunted when a well aimed punch walloped him in the guts.

'D'arvit!' Root gasped for air, winded from the blow.

Emilien grappled for the Nubeam and wrapped his skinny brown fingers around the trigger.

'Freeze! LEP! We have you surrounded! Drop the weapon!'

The startled elf nearly dropped the gun, black eyes widening, for around him, were a dozen or so figures, swathed in black from head to toe, hovering just above his head. His eyes dashed from right to left, searching for a way to escape.

'He's going to run,' crackled Grub into the microphone implanted in his helmet.

'No he ain't,' retorted Nackle.

Emilien dove to the right.

'Get him!'

They soon overpowered the elf and cuffed him.

'D'arvit,' panted the exhausted elf, as he was dragged off.

Root shoved the medic who was attending to his spilt lip away, 'Leave it. The magick will take care of it.'

* * *

He leaned across the desk, the light metal desk, arranging his facial features to sport a menacing mask. Considering all the practice he had in front of the mirror each morning perfecting it, it was pretty menacing.

Emilien shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

'So…' breathed Root, eyes narrowing dangerously, 'So…'

'So what? You ain't got nothing on me, Root.'

'That's what you think.' Root slapped a thick file onto the desk, 'Take a look. We have had surveillance on your activities since last year, Thorn. Evidence, and plenty of it.'

Emilien's grin faltered slightly.

Pressing further, Root flipped open the file, exposing dozens of animage, each sheet showed an animated Emilien, involved in some kind of criminal activity.

'What do you want, eh? Money? I got plenty of money. Too much money for little old me to finish by myself. So how about I give you a little, eh? Maybe a small sum of like five thou-'

'Trying to bribe an officer is a crime, Thorn.'

'Err… right. Sorry.'

The Commander stared down at pitiable elf before him.

'Fifteen thousand enough?' Emilien tried again.

'Shut up.'

'Okay.'

'You listen here, and you listen good; we have evidence against you and you'd better cooperate or I swear I'll force it out of you personally.'

Emilien cowered in his seat.

Root lit a cigar and puffed from it. He felt his lung compress suddenly and he started coughing, pounding on his chest. Tears were streaming down his face as Root struggled for air.

'Wha… wha… what is happening?' he choked out.

'Oh, don't worry, Julius. It'll be over soon,' smirked Emilien, eyes glinting malevolently.

Root wheezed and tumbled off the chair, gripping at the collar around his throat. He couldn't breathe.

The cigar was poisoned… or drugged.

'D..D'arvit,' he gasped, before he greyed out completely.

When Root awoke, was struck with a massive headache. He groaned and grasped his head. He forced his eyes open and almost dropped back into darkness.

There was blood everywhere. On the walls, floor, table. He rolled himself onto his back.

Oh, Frond, even on the ceiling?!

What happened here?

A loud, consistent pounding was ringing in his ears.

He pushed himself to his feet and let his eyes roam groggily from left to right, taking in the new gruesome interior decoration of the interrogation room.

A small moan from his left caught his attention. He turned.

Emilien lay in a dark pool of his blood. He wheezed and snorted when a tiny crimson bubble ballooned from one nostril and burst, sending a fine spray of red on his battered face.

The door of flew open, blasted open by a long squeeze of a Neutrino. The pounding in his ears stopped and Root knew that the pounding he mistook earlier as the blood rushing back into his brain was actually the pounding of officers at the three inch thick reinforced metal doors.

'What did you do?!' cried a balding sprite clad in a shabby threadbare coat and tie.

Officer Kelp appeared behind the flustered sprite, his face grim. 'Sir, I think you should come with us.'

The Commander was confused, 'What?'

He stumbled as the sprite rushed past him and crouched gingerly beside the wounded Emilien.

'Who the hell is he?' Root demanded.

'Mr. Scanterborough, Thorn's attorney.'

'Captain, what the hell happened here?'

'I should ask you the same thing, Commander. I have orders to take you into custody for questioning. You have intentionally hurt an elf who was in for questioning.'

Root forced a laugh, 'Me?'

Trouble looked away and said nothing.

'But I didn't do-'

'You are going to pay!' screamed Scanterborough shrilly, 'you have no right harming an innocent elf! I am going to rip you to shreds in court! My client is badly injured! Maybe even permanently. Permanent damage claims!'

Root blinked.

'Commander,' the captain swallowed, pulling out a pair of handcuffs, 'I don't want to do this, sir, but I have orders, sir.'

'On whose orders?'

'Ahm… we… you are being investigated by LEIA.'

'Internal Affairs?'

'Yessir.'

His heart plummeted when he realised how the severe situation looked like. He had to explain everything. He didn't do it; he hadn't beaten Emilien into a breathing bloody pulp. He was quite sure of that.

Thing was, he couldn't remember much of the past few minutes…

_'You listen here, and you listen good; we have evidence against you and you'd better cooperate or I swear I'll force it out of you personally.'_

_Emilien cowered in his seat._

He took a breath, 'Alright… I'll come.'

Root looked away as the cuffs tightened around his offered wrists and closed his eyes.

This can't be happening…

* * *

TBC…

Constructive criticism and review appreciated and welcomed!


End file.
